


Yon-Rogg's Revenge

by Aurora Danvers (Shadowed_Aurora)



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-01 05:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowed_Aurora/pseuds/Aurora%20Danvers
Summary: It's years after Yon-Rogg last saw Vers on C-53. He worked to keep his position as Starforce Commander, and vowed to find and deal with 'Carol Danvers' once and for all. Years later, he's still searching for her, and is no less frustrated. He stumbles upon another human that begins to remind him of his wayward apprentice, and decides to take it out some of his frustration on her.Warning: will probably contain unclear consent, coercion, and manipulation.





	1. She's Only Human

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to write slow burns...so not sure when things will actually happen. But they will. Eventually.

“Vers?” His voice was raw, graveled, choked with hesitant emotion. She couldn’t tell if it was good or bad, though. The gun he had trained on her was something she understood. And though she tried to quell her trembling, she was terrified. Was this really it? Two weeks of hiding in this storage closet, only to be shot by the first human face she’d seen. “No sudden movements.” The man’s voice was hard now, all emotion gone. Suppressed. Or maybe it was never there.  
  
She carefully raised her hands, and he strode forward with confident steps. She flinched when his arm lit up suddenly with a hum. He moved the curious light toward her and she tried to pull back reflexively, only to find that she couldn’t. She struggled violently, like an animal caught in a trap, but it was as if her shoulders were locked in cement. He raised her up and out of her crouched hiding place, into the air. The odd light held her body effortlessly in place, a vice-like grip that extended from her chest to jaw.  
  
He pressed a few more buttons on his arm, and suddenly a robotic voice emitted. “Species: human female. Threat: low to none.”  
  
She huffed. She’d show that thing how much of a low threat she was. She readied herself to make a move--if her upper body was stuck, she still had her lower body to fight with. She struggled, trying to throw kicks in his general direction, and managed to land a rough flailing kick to his hand holding the gun. He dropped it with a curse, lowering her to the ground, forcing her to her knees in front of him with her upper body still frozen in the light.  
  
Yon-Rogg studied her, dark hair with a slight curl, round face, an expression in her eyes that told him she would go down fighting. But it wasn’t Vers. It could have been her darker, younger cousin. He sighed in disappointment and relief, disgusted with himself for both emotions. He was a Kree Commander, they relied on his level-headedness and intelligence. Emotion was a weakness. A weakness that he needed to eliminate. Just like Vers.  
  
He brought his mind back to the task at hand. The stowaway on the ship his team had just taken. “Who are you?” He made her look up into his eyes, willing her to answer as he loomed over her.  
  
“No one,” she blurted, honestly. His gaze was unrelenting, so she babbled on, “I just...ended up here. I was working on the repairs for the ship, and suddenly it took off. It wasn't supposed to launch for another two months. When I saw there were green...things...walking around, I held up in this room. Hoped to sneak off after they landed.” He was already bored. She was weak, hiding away from the unknown, instead of facing it.  
  
Yon-Rogg looked to his blaster, too far away. He had other means to end this one’s existence. He pulled out a knife from the sheath down his thigh. She squirmed again, somehow managing to get her leg out from under her and wrapped around his, taking him to the ground. He turned off his shield, partially out of curiosity. It wasn't like she could kill him. She sprung into action, suddenly free. The coward girl went on the offense, taking advantage of his momentary surprise by attacking. He blocked her advance, and he felt her weight shift to adjust, countering his next intended move to sweep her off balance. Only a practiced warrior could have that minute detail so ingrained into their subconscious that it was second nature. She was a fighter. Maybe a cautious fighter. The thought suddenly occurred to him--where was she from? Because if she was from C-53...no wonder she decided not to face off against the Skrulls. This may have been her first time seeing other life forms.  
  
A few false starts, and he had her falling into his trap. He finally swept her over, landing on top. He pinned her down with his weight, expecting her to yield. She bucked under him, pushing wildly. He kept his balance, waiting for her to tire herself out. She did, finally, breathing hard. He could see it in her eyes though, she wasn’t ready to surrender. He had a sudden flash to his sparring matches with Vers, even when he had her down, when she was at a disadvantage, she had that spark in her eyes...and that energy in her hand. This girl did not have any powers though.  
  
He put his hand around her throat. She bucked again, and he applied light pressure. “Ah ah ah.” He scolded. “You lost.” He fixed her with another cold stare.  
  
“Not yet,” She gritted out.  
  
He couldn’t help the huff of laughter that briefly escaped him. Oh, Vers. “I could extinguish the life from you right now.” He squeezed harder, and she brought her hands up uselessly to pry against his. He used his other hand to capture her one arm and hold it above her head. She continued to fruitlessly pull with her free hand against the one he had at her throat. He cut off her air completely for a moment. “Listen.” He bit out. She glared right back at him, the panic right on the edge, still straining against his hold. She didn’t want to die. “Control your emotions.” Yon-Rogg found himself scolding her. “Keep them in check, and you may just live.” He let her breathe again. She did, gasping in air. Her confusion was clear in her eyes.  
  
“Where are you from?” He asked, ignoring her questioning gaze.  
  
“Um, Wisconsin.” That meant nothing to him.  
  
“Which planet?” Her eyebrows rose at his question, but he could see her logic out the question. She had seen aliens. She was a stowaway on what now was a spaceship. It was less odd of a question once she accepted the context. Which she had apparently had days to accept, if his suspicions were correct.  
  
“Earth.” She paused, then seemed to win some internal battle. “What about you?” He ignored the question.  
  
Earth. Human. The species Vers swore to protect, forsaking the gift he had given her. His blood. His life. His training. This girl represented everything that Vers decided to protect, that she had turned her back on to protect.  
  
He suddenly had the urge to ruin it. To steal it. To take it for himself and bend it to his will. Just to prove to Vers that it wasn’t worth it. That these humans weren’t worthy of the gift she was giving them. That Kree were the superior race. That humans were weak.  
  
She didn’t like the look in his eyes. The cold contemplation had turned to fire the instant she had said where she was from. She knew now, too late, that that had been the wrong answer. Though what else she could’ve said, she didn’t know. She only knew that the man pinning her to the ground, with the advanced weapons and training, with his fingers currently around her neck, was looking at her like she was prey. And he was the predator.  
  
“What’s your name?” His voice was soft, dangerous. She didn’t want to answer, but thought better of challenging him right now.  
  
“Claire,” she admitted, just as soft.  
  
“No,” he spoke over her, before she even finished saying her name. She tried not to let her confusion show. Her name was Claire. What was his problem? What had flipped the switch from his distant apathy to this manic intensity?  
  
“What?” She asked, lost.  
  
“You’re no longer--Claire,” he sounded choked on her name.  
  
He got up suddenly, not removing his hand from her neck, dragging her up with him. She had the unnerving observation about how strong he was, to lift her off the ground with only one hand. This was all as her air was cut off again. She struggled, but he quickly shoved her away from him and into a wall, which she hit hard. Her throat was finally free from his grip, but he stepped in front of her, forcing her flush against the surface of wall behind her. There was no room to escape him as he stepped in so close that she was forced to look almost straight up to meet his gaze. Which he ensured with his hand gripping her jaw, holding her chin up while he studied her.  
  
“You are my prisoner.” He suddenly pressed a button on the forearm of his armor, and static burst to life. “Bron-Char.”  
  
“Yes, Commander?” The static answered.  
  
“I found a human stowaway. I think she may have been working with the Skrulls. She’s resisting. I’m taking her back to Hala for interrogation.”  
  
“No!” Claire’s protest was cut off as Yon-Rogg moved his hand from her jaw to cover her mouth. He used his body to pin hers against the wall, so she couldn’t get any leverage to rush him again.  
  
“Do you need backup?” Bron-Char’s voice came through the comm, amused.  
  
“Negative. She’s only human.” Yon-Rogg challenged the girl with his gaze as he turned off his comm. And she lived up to it. Or tried to. He blocked her wild punch to his face with his free hand, slipping around and twisting her wrist until she yelped in pain. Still muffled by his other hand.  
  
He sighed, disappointed but not surprised. She struggled, but the squirming only caused friction between her and her captor. He looked down on her with a tight smile. “You want to do this here? Because I will. No one will question me.”  
  
She wasn't sure what exactly he was threatening to do here, but whatever it was she didn't want to do it. Anyway, what were her other options? Being left on a ship adrift in space that most likely doubled as a tomb now. As much as she hated to admit it, he was her best shot at surviving. She was at his mercy. The only problem was, she didn't think he had any mercy.  
  
She relaxed, no longer resisting his hold. His lips thinned, almost imperceptibly. Like he was disappointed. Did he want her to fight him? To give him an excuse to torture her? She sighed internally. He was going to be very hard to please then, if he said one thing but wanted another. Not that she wanted to please him. But if what he truly wanted was for her to fight him, then he was going to get it. Claire knew she couldn't just sit back and let him push her around forever. When the time was right, she would push back. And she knew that he would be ready for it. He would be waiting for that moment with the utmost anticipation. And her pride would make sure that she delivered.


	2. Learning Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yon-Rogg teaches his captive about what the Kree value. Claire starts to show her true colors, accepting her fate. Mostly it's them fighting, verbally and physically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get to smut eventually. But I'm very into the build up. It'll be at least a few more chapters before anything really happens like that.

Back on the Kree craft, Claire sat alone in a cabin. She was uneasy to see the relatively large bed that dominated most the space. She was bound on the floor across from it, with an absurd amount of metal. Her wrists were bound behind her back, her ankles bound together in front of her, and her neck encircled and tethered to a chain which looped to a hook on the wall. Like she had anywhere to go. She didn't know what she had done to offend her captor, but apparently it was enough to warrant her being treated as a dangerous criminal.  
  
She started to doze off, from a combination of boredom and dealing with the intensity of the day. She only had about a foot of lead, and with her hands and ankles bound, there was barely any wriggling she could accomplish. She couldn't even lay down, and was woken a number of times by a jingle and jerk as she started to slide down the wall in her sleep.  
  
She had finally managed to keep herself propped up on the wall, turning slightly so her shoulder and hip rested against it, when the door opened with a hiss. Immediately, Claire jerked awake, adrenaline spiking. Yon-Rogg strode in, spine just as rigid as before, his eyes just as intense. The man was pure business. And he apparently thought it was his business to capture her and...she didn't even know what.  
  
She looked up at him with a level gaze, holding back her fear and hatred. He seemed to respect that. She couldn't help her fist from curling involuntarily--she didn't want to please him. And yet somehow she did.  
  
His eyes flicked to her clenched hand, missing no detail. He raised his eyebrows slightly at her. “Control it.” He said automatically, the words were out before their memory hit him. He didn't like his subconscious interrupting the present.  
  
He watched the warring emotions in the girl's eyes as she debated whether to heed his command. “Why do you care?” She went for confrontation instead.  
  
“I don't. But you should.” He crouched down in front of her.  
  
“Oh, so you don't care if I control my anger?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “Fine then. Fuck you. You're a lying fucking bastard. You don't think I'm a threat at all. You don't think I worked with the Skulls--”  
  
“Skrulls,” he corrected cooly.  
  
“Whatever the fuck they are. I don't give a damn! You know I wasn't working with them! But you treat me like a fucking assassin, binding me up and leaving me here for hours while you go frolicking with your crew.” His mouth twitched but his face went back to stone so quickly she thought she may have imagined it. “Just get the fuck out of here. I don't want to talk to you.” She said in a rush, trying to get as much coldness into her gaze as she felt from his.  
  
He waited a beat. “Are you finished?” He asked, like he was speaking to a child. Her temper flared right back up.  
  
“No I'm not fucking finished! I'll rant as much as I want. Because you said you didn't fucking care. So go not fucking care somewhere else.”  
  
She couldn't tell if he had sighed or chuckled. “Is that it? You want me to care?” His tone was mocking.  
  
“No,” she answered defensively. “I want you to tell the truth. And stop fucking treating me like I'm lesser than you.”  
  
“But you are,” he cut in again. “Lesser than me.” He clarified. “You're human. And you lost to me in a fight. That makes you weaker than me. And my prisoner.” He wasn't sure why he had to explain it to her. Why he bothered explain it to her. “And as my prisoner you should treat me with respect.” He leaned in closer, still crouching, intending to intimidate her with his proximity. Her harsh laugh ruined the moment.  
  
“Like the respect you've shown me?”  
  
“You lost!” He reminded her. “You don't deserve my respect.”  
  
“Fuck you, is this how you treat your trainees? Like shit until the day that can beat you down? No wonder you have a stick up your ass.”  
  
He backhanded her. Not out of anger, but out of discipline. He tried not to admit to himself that it felt good. She recovered quicker than he expected, glaring up at him again. “And hitting defenseless prisoners? Very noble of you.”  
  
He grabbed her by the throat, done listening to her onslaught. She met his hard gaze, wild with anger. She didn't care if she shouldn't goad him. She didn't care if she was being reckless.  
  
“You will learn respect.” He promised, putting enough pressure on her airway that he could feel the effort it took for her to draw in breath.  
  
“Or what? You'll kill me?” She held his glare.  
  
“No. I'll break you.” He let go of her neck, undid the chain holding her to the wall, and grabbed her by the ankle bindings.  
  
He walked swiftly from the room, not bothering to slow his pace, even with his load. She cursed indignantly as he yanked her along behind him. He didn't break his stride until he came to the sparring room. He effortlessly tossed her inside, purposefully throwing her into the air enough that her landing would knock the wind out of her. At least he was kind enough to drop her on the mats.  
  
He released her bindings with a few taps to his forearm controls. She was free. It took her a moment to get her bearings, and her breath back, before she rose up on her hands and knees, and turned to face him. She did not disappoint.  
  
“I'm going to prove to you how inferior you are. No weapons. No killing. You can yield and we'll start again until you realize that you'll never beat me. No matter how many times you try.”  
  
She slowly rose to her feet, stepping back into a wary sparring stance. “This isn't what defines me, or my worth.” She knew she couldn't win. That didn't mean she wouldn't try.  
  
“It is for the Kree. And that's a lesson that you need to learn early.” He advanced, throwing the first punch. He was done with talking. So be it.  
  
She managed to avoid that but he caught her immediately, halfway through her dodge, across the cheek. She jumped back, still on her feet after the blow. He was impressed, but didn’t let it slow his attack, following her retreat by driving into her. She absorbed his attack, falling to the mats in a surprisingly controlled fall. It could only be second nature, the way she landed to spread the force of the fall across her entire body. Yon-Rogg noted her reaction, curious to find the edges of her training. Apparently it was in blocking blows. He clipped her chin with his elbow, as he moved to get himself in a position to deliver a fatal blow.  
  
She felt his shift of weight and pushed her hips out from under him, trying to get away. She actually remembered to get her arm up to block another punch he threw. But they weren’t at his full power because of the close quarters they were now in. She wanted to keep it like that. Because she didn’t know shit when there were fists involved.  
  
Instead of retreating like he expected, she advanced, catching him off balance and pushing him down. She went for pinning him, trying to neutralize his arms. She positioned herself perpendicular to his chest, using her weight to hold him down. He paused in his movements, and she wondered if that was a good or bad sign. In truth, he was just confused by her tactic. Why was she not trying to regain her feet? Why did she waste her time trying to tumble with him on the ground? She couldn’t really expect to--  
  
His thoughts were interrupted when he realized he was getting lightheaded. She had grabbed the edge of his shirt near his neckline, tugging the material across the side of his neck and cutting her arm across the other side. Apparently targeting the bloodflow to his brain. Clever, very clever. He had a pang as he realized it was a strategy that Vers would never have used--she didn’t have the patience for stranglization. And thinking of past enemies was not a strategy that any Kree would use in a fight, he scolded himself. He needed to focus.  
  
Yon-Rogg managed to use his free hand to grab her arm, giving his neck some temporary relief by just using his superior strength. In his opinion, straggling one's opponent was a slow method, and should be reserved for steal missions only. In hand-to-hand combat, it left a lot of time for one's opponent to come up with a counterattack. He slid out from her grasp, pulling back to create enough space to deliver another hard blow to the side of her face. She crumpled and he stood up.  
  
When the fog clear from her head, she looked up at him. He was standing over her, stern expression marked with confident arrogance. Which she was annoyed to see, considering that she almost had him a moment ago. Smug bastard.  
  
“You done?” His asked dispassionately.  
  
Claire didn't answer, she stood, making sure to block her head while she did. He seemed to have no qualms attacking her when her guard was down.  
  
He did actually wait for her to stand, settling into a fighting stance. She stared him down briefly before realizing he was going to wait for her move this time. She lifted her fists and tried to recall the long ago boxing lessons she took. She sidestepped, gauging his reaction. Or maybe she was just putting off the inevitable. She hated attacking first. She preferred to react to her opponent's mistakes. And she had limited experience fighting an opponent who was throwing punches.  
  
Instead of engaging in the fight that she would surely lose, she tried to move it to the ground again. She threw herself into a lunge, trying to take Yon-Rogg by surprise. He wasn't. Or maybe he was. But he didn't show it, easily dodging her clumsy attempt and shoving her--already off balance from the failed attack--to the ground. She rolled over so her back wasn't to him, but he didn't follow her to the mats. Annoyed that he was avoiding, intentionally or unintentionally, she wasn't sure, engaging in a ground game, she pushed back up to her fight. Raising her fists again.  
  
He attacked first again, throwing her easily over his hips and to the ground again. She took a beat to get her breath back and got back up. He came again, and when she went to avoid falling into the same hip throw, he tripped her legs again. She pushed up from the mats, again.   
  
That was when she decided that she wasn't going to call the fight. She would go until her heart collapsed or he stopped it himself. But she would win the only battle she could in this situation, the battle of wills. 


End file.
